Summer's Solstice
by Althea-Ann-Harper
Summary: It is August before Harry's 6th year. The OWL scores are in and once again, Harry has been whisked away from the Dursley's home by members of the Order. Upon his arrival at Grimmauld Place, he learns that more information about Voldemort has been discov
1. Departures

The doorbell at number four, Privet Drive rang at precisely three o'clock on a sultry afternoon in August. Harry Potter, a boy of sixteen with unruly black hair and green eyes that were apt to take one by surprise, lifted his head, mildly interested. His cousin Dudley's friends never rang the doorbell; they were inclined to walk in without notice. More often, though, Dudley could be found cruising the town in Dudley's new American sports car, harassing passerby with obscene gestures and hollered profanities. Harry's Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, had, of course, no idea that their corpulent son was in a bad way with the police as of late. Somehow, Dudley's pocket money had covered his last few traffic violations.  
"Probably spending it on treating his friends," Aunt Petunia often gushed, pulling bills from her pocketbook and handing them over to Dudley. Harry was often forced to choke down the truth – though the bars on his window and the locks on his door were gone, so was the doorknob, and Dudley was bound to attack at any moment.  
Harry crept out of his bedroom and hovered at the top of the stairs, just out of sight of his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. A strange thrill of excitement ran through him and he spun his wand in his pocket.  
From his vantage point, Harry could see only his uncle's meaty hand turn the doorknob and open the door. Uncle Vernon's hand suddenly clenched and Harry could see his knuckles turning white. A soft, pleasant man's voice rose up from the doorway, but Harry couldn't understand what he was saying.  
"Yes – of course," Uncle Vernon said in a very falsely polite voice. "Come in then." Harry could almost hear Aunt Petunia scowling. The door opened wider and Harry could see, against the bright afternoon sunlight, the silhouette of a formidable but poorly dressed young man. Harry nearly fell down the stairs.  
It was Remus Lupin.  
It took all the self-mastery Harry had not to sprint back to his room. He leapt up and jogged quietly back, grinning broadly. Hastily but silently he packed up his belongings. He slammed his Potions book shut with special vehemence. Surely against Snape's every wish, Harry had managed an Outstanding O.W.L. on his Potions examination. When the owl bearing his examination scores had come early in the morning not long after his birthday, Harry was skeptical, but he had toppled off his bed when he read the short analysis by Professor Marchbanks: "Sample potion effective but slightly potent. Demonstrates aptitude and knowledge with even the most difficult potions." Harry knew she was referring to the Polyjuice Potion and almost felt guilty, but the O in the score box was enough to ease his conscience. He had also received Outstanding marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and Charms. He had mercifully received the necessary Exceeds Expectations mark for Transfiguration and gotten the same in Herbology. Despite the tumultuous events of the night of his Astronomy examination, Harry had scraped by with an Acceptable mark, but had received "Poor" marks in Divination and History of Magic. Harry strongly suspected that someone had intervened on his behalf to prevent his History of Magic score from being "Dreadful." Rifling through his closet, Harry checked for things he might need among the misshapen heaps of clothing. Coming up with only a quill and the tail trimmers for his Firebolt, Harry closed his trunk rather more loudly than he had intended, prompting Hedwig, who was perched in the windowsill, to squawk in surprise.  
"Sorry, Hedwig," he prompted, pouring the contents of her water dish out the window. "Lupin's here, hopefully to get me out of here. You'll know where to find me?" He gave her a meaningful look and she seemed to straighten up. She nipped his finger reassuringly and flew out the window without a sound. Loud footsteps were coming from the staircase, and Harry flung himself on his bed and stared at the ceiling with what he hoped was a look of complete boredom.  
"Boy!" snapped Uncle Vernon, flinging the door open. "Downstairs. Now!" Mistaking Harry's faked nonchalance for resistance, he stormed over and seized Harry by the front of his overlarge t-shirt.  
"One of your kind is here," he whispered violently, "and you'll not do anything that would invite the neighbors to question us, understood?"  
"Understood," Harry almost snarled, bracing himself as Uncle Vernon let him drop back to the bed. He stomped out and Harry flew down the staircase. Lupin was sitting serenely on the sofa in the parlor. Aunt Petunia was bearing down upon him with a birdlike glare from the doorway, but he appeared not to notice how offensive she found him. It was a slight improvement from last year's attire, Harry noticed. Lupin appeared to be wearing robes that were slightly too large for him, and they were somewhat moth-eaten. They looked as though they had once been black. Harry realized with a pang of sorrow that they were probably Sirius' old school robes. He fought back tears and anger and composed himself enough to stride into the room. Aunt Petunia sniffed condescendingly and walked out, leaving Harry and Lupin alone. Harry sat down in the armchair across from Lupin and smiled his first real smile for several weeks.  
"So," he said lamely, desperately trying to keep his gaze off of a tear in Lupin's robes that looked as though it had been made by a set of claws. Lupin appeared to notice and refolded his hands so that the tear was hidden.  
"Look, Harry, I can't say as much here as I would like to. All I can say is that things have changed, and that you need to come back to where you were. I don't know how else to say it." His eyes flicked to the open window, and Harry got the very distinct sensation that Lupin had not come to Privet Drive unaccompanied.  
"Did you come with –" Harry said, and Lupin interrupted him with a panicked look but a level voice. "Oh, just some of the guard have been around recently," he said, his gaze locked on Harry with an eerie, wolfish intensity.  
"Ah," said Harry. "I'm ready, then." Lupin looked pleased.  
"Already? Second-guessed me, have you?" Harry nodded and motioned toward the staircase. He stood and Lupin followed him.  
"I don't want to make too much of a disturbance," Lupin muttered, looking around at the empty cage and Harry's trunk and broomstick. "You've still got that cloak, you know, the one your dad used to have?"  
"I do," Harry said and put his hand on it.  
"Get it out," Lupin said and took his wand out. "Locomotor trunk," he whispered, and the trunk lifted a few inches off the ground. "Make it look like you're carrying it," Lupin said, whispering "Silencio," to the cage and putting his wand away quickly. Harry grabbed the handle at one end of the feather-light trunk and grabbed the broomstick with the other. Lupin picked up Hedwig's cage, and to Harry's surprise, it didn't rattle. They made their way down the stairs as quietly and efficiently as they could. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia watched impassively from the hallway, their arms folded and impatient.  
"G'bye then," Harry said through gritted teeth, trying to maintain some essence of normality without having to be completely civil. Neither responded. Lupin rolled his eyes and they made their way over the threshold. The door slammed behind them. Out of the corner of his eye, he vaguely saw something move, and something was thrown over his head. 


	2. Disappearing

There was a hand over Harry's mouth before he could even manage a strangled cry, and his hand was twisted behind his back.  
"Calm down, Potter, it's Moody," a voice growled and Harry stopped struggling. "We're under an invisibility cloak, and I'd like it to stay that way." From the nonchalant way Lupin was gazing around the yard, Harry could tell he was in on whatever the plan was. Moody's magical blue eye was zooming around his head at a nauseating speed. Harry could tell that he was nervous, more nervous than he had seen him before.  
"Hestia's going to make the drop here soon," Moody said, "Keep that broomstick tucked under here or there could be trouble. Don't ask questions, just follow Lupin's lead." Harry clamped his mouth shut angrily. Why would no one ever tell him anything?  
Lupin looked around, checked his watch, and made a beeline to where Harry and Moody were standing on the pretense of examining one of Aunt Petunia's hedges.  
"Pass out the invisibility cloak, Harry," Moody growled so quietly that Harry had to lip-read to fully understand him. He wadded up the invisibility cloak and dropped it to the ground at his feet. He took a few small steps back so that Moody's cloak was no longer covering it and Lupin bent down to pick it up without looking at it.  
"Clear," Moody said in a normal conversational tone. Lupin ducked down behind the hedge and flung the invisibility cloak over himself and the trunk, and he disappeared. Harry opened his mouth to ask how on earth they were going to follow Lupin's lead when he was invisible, but Moody's magical eye was now fixed on the spot where Lupin had been only seconds before. Moody shifted, took a hold of Harry's arm, and began to walk. Slight disturbances that passerby were most unlikely to notice told Harry where Lupin was. A single twig on one of the hedges snagged the cloak and sprang back into place as Moody and Harry passed it. Pebbles shifted quietly of their own accord, and blades of grass were dragged along the sidewalk.  
Everything was dead silent, and it was making even Harry, who spent every summer in this neighborhood, very nervous. It was not unlike the night dementors had shown up on Privet Drive just a year ago, just before his fifth year at Hogwarts was due to begin. To Harry, the silence seemed an ill omen.  
He felt Moody jump beside him as a bicycle bell rang somewhere down the street. Moody's wand was out now and he was standing as stiffly as his form would allow. The bicyclist came nearer, and Harry could see that it was a middle-aged woman with black hair. Her cheeks were bright pink from the exertion of riding the bicycle, and she was swerving in a somewhat unnatural manner, as though it was her first time riding a bicycle. She pedaled forward a little more slowly, and as she approached, Harry's face lit with comprehension. It was Hestia Jones, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She was dressed in an awkward imitation of Muggle fashion; she was wearing blue jeans and steel-toe boots, and she wore a camisole that made Harry wonder if it might not have been better if it had remained in the lingerie department. Moody waited until Hestia was right where Harry supposed Lupin to be and pointed his wand at the sidewalk at Harry's feet. He mumbled a spell and a black cat ran out from under the cloak, right in front of Hestia. She squealed and swerved, tipping the bicycle and sending the contents of the knapsack on her back all over the road.  
"Bloody cat!" she screeched, and with a somewhat morbid smile, kicked it. It yowled and sprinted into the nearest garden. She picked up her empty knapsack and began to replace its contents: a hairbrush, a makeup compact, two toothbrushes and some granola bars. Her water bottle had rolled into the gutter, and she pointedly avoided looking at it. Harry decided it must be the Portkey. Moody waited until Hestia had pedaled off again and approached the water bottle. Looking to the seemingly empty space to their left, Moody nodded, and guided Harry's and his own hand to the water bottle. Something lurched inside Harry's gut, and he felt himself being pulled away into oblivion.  
For the first time in his experience with using Portkeys, Harry didn't fall down when he hit the ground. Moody's hand was still clamped around his forearm and Harry was fighting his every instinct not to wrench it free. Moody's magical blue eye seemed to be searching around wildly for something. Now and then it would fix itself on something, then continue revolving around in a most nauseating fashion. Harry vaguely recognized their locale; it seemed to be the same area of town that Grimmauld Place was, but he couldn't be sure.  
They had landed in what seemed to be a very old and dilapidated park. They were directly adjacent to a small, strangled wood. A few yards away, a swing creaked emptily, swinging from just one of its two chains. A rusty metal slide reflected the late afternoon sunlight, and a climbing ladder lay fallen and forgotten in the gravel. Moody jumped suddenly, and Harry nearly cried out but for the silence of the place. Moody's hand was clenched so tightly around his wand that Harry could swear that he could see the bones in his knuckles, and the corresponding pressure building on Harry's forearm was far from comfortable. He shook his arm a little to remind Moody that he was there and his grip loosened slightly, but both of his eyes fixed on Harry and his lip curled horrifyingly. The look of sheer malice and anger on Moody's face made Harry's heart race and he wanted to run until he saw them.  
Two figures were walking through the deserted park with a fixed direction. Harry pressed his face against his Firebolt to readjust his glasses. Moody's normal eye remained staring at Harry, but not at his face. He realized with a start that he was trying to get Harry to take out his wand. Harry leaned his Firebolt on the crook of his left arm and pulled his wand out with his right. He could hear blood roaring in his ears.  
"Damn; what are they doing here?" Moody muttered, "Harry, there isn't time to tell you much, but Remus is standing next to us and the two people approaching us are Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange. I don't know if they know for sure we're here, but they must have caught wind of something. Two Death Eaters don't just show up. If something happens, Harry, you are to take one of the invisibility cloaks and get out of here on your Firebolt. Remus will go with you. We've got reinforcements here – Tonks and Kingsley, so you don't need to worry about us; we're trained for this." The monotony in Moody's voice certainly made Harry think otherwise, but the fact that two Death Eaters were approaching at an alarming pace rendered him speechless. Moody finally released Harry's arm and he felt his circulation returning. Harry heard Lupin whisper something, but it was so quiet he couldn't decipher it.  
"They're alone, yes, as far as I can tell. He must have just gotten tipped off about this and..." Moody's whisper trailed off into an expletive. "They've got Pettigrew with them. Three Death Eaters." 


	3. Three Death Eaters

Upon hearing Wormtail's name, a hot surge of anger rose up inside of Harry and all he could think of was running out across the dying grass and cursing him into oblivion. He grabbed his Firebolt and held his wand at the ready. Moody was sidestepping to the right. Harry mimicked his actions, fully aware that Moody was the only one who could tell where Lupin was. Harry desperately wished the grass wasn't so dry; it seemed as though the sound of his feet creeping across the ground was like a herd of elephants. Harry saw Dolohov's head snap up and look around. Out of the opposite end of the wood that they were moving away from, a robed figure strode, holding his wand in one silver hand. Harry clenched his teeth so tightly that his ears rang. Peter Pettigrew was talking to Dolohov and Lestrange, his head jerking around, surveying the scene now and then. His voice did not carry across the park, but Harry could imagine that whining, simpering voice even as he watched his head nod to the Death Eaters. They all drew their wands, and Harry could almost feel the tension mounting. Something moved in the corner of his eye and he jerked his head to see what it was.  
Somewhere over by the cracked and weedy asphalt parking lot, something was moving with the stealth and ease of a beast of prey, but it disappeared as quickly as Harry had noticed it. Moody's eye was watching it too but seemed completely unconcerned. Harry desperately hoped that it was Kingsley or Tonks.  
"They're in position," Moody said out of the side of his mouth to the empty space where Lupin stood. "If we're going to act, it has to be now. There's the signal. I have to respond." There was the slightest rustling sound as Lupin crawled underneath Moody's invisibility cloak, pulling James's old cloak off as soon as he was completely concealed. Wordlessly he threw the cloak over Harry and himself, and Moody sidestepped far enough that his own invisibility cloak slid off of them. He promptly disappeared, but the Death Eaters seemed to have sensed some movement. They all snapped to attention, and Lupin gestured to a sandy area that must have once been for volleyball. He and Harry moved as swiftly as was possible without letting the cloak slide off and making too much noise. Harry wished he had been able to leave his Firebolt somewhere; it was awkward trying to move quickly with a racing broom in one arm and a drawn wand in the other. Dolohov, Pettigrew and Lestrange were now no more than silhouettes against the backdrop of twisted trees. The movement from the tiny parking lot came again, and the Death Eaters all turned. As one entity they moved toward it, and Harry watched as Moody threw off his cloak from behind their turned backs. From the weeds, a huge beast materialized. It was a lion, snarling and muscular, with an unusually dark mane. It caught Dolohov in the chest and sent him flying into Pettigrew. Something huge and bright came flying from Moody's wand and Lestrange was sent spinning into the ground just as he was about to curse the lion. Tonks came running at a sprint from the opposite side of the park, but Pettigrew was already on his feet. Tonks pointed her wand at him and a dull comet of blue caught him in the stomach and pinned him to the ground. Before Harry's eyes, the lion shifted into a human form: it was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He looked at Lupin in amazement, but Lupin was staring openmouthed at the scene. Harry looked back.  
Moody was now sprawled on the grass in a way that reminded Harry forcefully of the spread-eagled Cedric lying dead in the graveyard. Tonks was dueling with Dolohov; Kingsley with Lestrange. They were apparently unaware of Pettigrew, who was prying the blue web from his midsection with his wand. There was a small pop: Pettigrew had broken the spell by transforming into a rat. He turned back into himself a few feet off and pointed his wand at the motionless Moody.  
"No," whispered Lupin, and before Harry could stop him, he had dashed out from under the invisibility cloak and was running toward Pettigrew with a chilling howl. Pettigrew looked up and even Dolohov and Lestrange froze. Harry saw the flash of green light before he heard the Unforgivable Curse uttered.  
"Avada kedavra!" 


	4. Moony vs Wormtail

Rabastan Lestrange hit the ground with an unnatural, hollow thump. Kingsley lowered his wand and Tonks put hers at the ready. There was a flash of red as she Stunned Dolohov. Pettigrew didn't even flinch as his fellows fell around him. He had fixed an insane glare on Lupin's approaching figure. Lupin halted about ten feet away from his old friend, his wand held loosely in his hand. Kingsley turned his wand on Pettigrew. "Don't," said Lupin, meeting Pettigrew's gaze evenly. Tonks and Kingsley exchanged worried glances but did not act. Moody was still sprawled across the grass, and now and then Dolohov would give a slight convulsive twitch. Harry watched the scene in horror and suddenly felt his legs carrying him toward Lupin and Pettigrew, his heart pounding. "We meet again, Moony," Pettigrew said tauntingly, "how the tables have turned." "Have they changed that much?" Lupin replied quietly. Pettigrew snorted. "Don't be stupid, Moony. Even you know that resistance to the Dark Lord is useless. You know you're failing." "Still afraid to speak the name, Wormtail? Still afraid to say Voldemort?" Lupin said. Pettigrew's lip curled. "You contaminate the name of Lord Voldemort with your filthy Mudblood tongue, Moony." Lupin did not even flinch, but took a full step closer to him. Pettigrew looked vaguely panicked. "Join us, Moony... The Marauders are all but dead. James and Sirius were too weak to grasp the power that is to be attained. They were worthless idiots... they died in vain, Moony! You don't have to die like they did... we could use someone like you... your kind." Harry felt blood rushing to his head as the names of his father and godfather were mentioned. He pulled his wand out, breathing raggedly under the invisibility cloak. The anger mounting inside him was rapidly becoming uncontrollable with every passing jeer from Pettigrew. "Liar," Lupin snapped back, "that's a lie and you know it. My kind doesn't associate with deceivers like Lord Voldemort." "There is only power, Moony," Wormtail whined, alarm and mania rising in his voice, "only power and those strong enough to seek it. James and Sirius were weak... Forget them." Harry was now close enough to see Pettigrew's pale, ratlike face. Something moved on the ground, and with a horrifying grin, Dolohov raised his wand. "Avada... kedavra!" There was a snap as Tonks haphazardly kicked Dolohov's arm in an effort to divert the curse's path to Lupin. Something still caught him and he spun lifeless to the ground. Kingsley lashed out with the same curse and Dolohov slumped back down into the weedy grass. At the sight of Lupin motionless on the ground, Harry threw down his Firebolt, tore off the invisibility cloak and pressed his wand to Pettigrew's throat, only his shock keeping him from cursing Pettigrew. "YOU!" bellowed Harry in an insuppressible rage, "YOU LET VOLDEMORT KILL MY PARENTS AND SIRIUS, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF INHUMAN SCUM! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE... FOR KILLING EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER MEANT SOMETHING TO ME!" Pettigrew mumbled something. "YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, TRY AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF, YOU SACK OF DUNG! YOU'VE GONE AND KILLED EVERYONE WHO EVER CALLED YOU A FRIEND, YOU CRINGING FOOL!" Harry jabbed the wand even more into Pettigrew's neck. "Harry! Harry, I never... never got to explain, did I..." Pettigrew was beginning to panic; his watery eyes were darting for some way to escape. Tonks and Kingsley were looking fit to draw blood with their gazes. "SHUT... UP!" Harry screamed. Tears were running down his face but he felt no sadness, no sorrow for Peter Pettigrew. Images of his father, Sirius and Lupin spun in his mind and finally settled on the memory of Pettigrew begging for his life in the Shrieking Shack, Sirius and Lupin scowling down at their traitorous comrade and finally, his silver stag Patronus. "They were right," Harry whispered savagely. "What?" Pettigrew squeaked. "You don't deserve to live. Avada –" "No," said a weak voice just behind Harry, "No." Pettigrew gasped as Harry drove the wand against his windpipe. "Harry, don't," the voice persisted, and he finally recognized it as Lupin's. A rush of relief coursed through him. In the instant that Harry had let himself off guard, Pettigrew had an arm around Harry's neck pointing his wand at Harry's head; his other hand twisted Harry's arm behind his back. His scar was burning so badly that he was seeing red and hot floods of tears were obscuring his vision. "Let – GO!," Harry said through tightly gritted teeth. Pettigrew was glancing around; the Aurors were looking beyond murderous and even Lupin's tired stare was boring through him. With a crack, Pettigrew Disapparated and Harry fell to the ground. Tonks was visibly relieved and Lupin rushed forward to grab Harry as he swayed on his feet. He dimly watched Lupin's approach as his vision began to clear. Lupin put a shaking hand on Harry's arm. Harry immediately wrenched himself away. "Why didn't you let me kill him?" he demanded hotly, "And why didn't either of you kill him? You killed Dolohov and Lestrange! Why couldn't you have just done it and ended it all?" "Harry," Tonks said as gently as she could, "Nobody knows that Pettigrew's alive. They still think... they still think Sirius was responsible for your parents' death. We were hoping to get him alive." "ALIVE? What's the point of having a load of scum like him alive?" Harry shouted. "We wanted to clear Sirius' name, Harry," Kingsley said quietly. Harry's heart seemed to shudder in his chest. "CLEAR HIS NAME NOW? LOAD OF GOOD THAT DOES, NOW THAT HE'S DEAD!" Harry ran his hand through his hair roughly and ignored the pang of guilt that had plagued him all summer. Tonks, Lupin and Kingsley all exchanged meaningful glances. "We can't linger here," Kingsley said, "It would be too easy for the other Death Eaters to Apparate. You know what to do, Lupin. Tonks and I have to go back to the Ministry to get help for Mad-Eye and to turn in Dolohov and Lestrange's bodies. Damn shame that we had to kill them both; we could have gotten some information from them." Kingsley hoisted Dolohov's smaller body over one shoulder and grabbed Lestrange's forearm with his other hand. With a crack, he disappeared. Lupin helped Tonks shift Moody into a sitting position and with a physical strength Harry never would have guessed her having, she stood Moody's motionless form up. Lupin tucked Moody's invisibility cloak between her arm and Moody and she gave a solemn nod to him. "Get your cloak, Harry, and your broom," said Lupin. Harry turned to the silvery mass on the ground and picked up the Firebolt and cloak. They both mounted the broom and Lupin pulled the cloak over Harry before pulling it over himself. "You've got an ankle showing there, Remus," Tonks said quietly to him. He tugged the cloak over it and the two kicked off the ground. Harry sadly watched Tonks Disapparate as he and Lupin flew away. 


End file.
